


coping

by plantyourtreeswithme



Series: je ne sais quoi? [2]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Grieving LeFou, Hallucinations, M/M, PTSD, Poor LeFou :(, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantyourtreeswithme/pseuds/plantyourtreeswithme
Summary: Everyone deals with grief in their own way. LeFou's is unique.





	coping

"You look  _ravishin_ _g_ , darling."

"Thank you," LeFou replied softly, peering into the ornate mirror in front of him and patting a few stray strands of hair back into place.

"Really, you do. Is it a special occasion, or are you dressing up just for me?"

He smiled, catching Gaston's eye in the mirror. "You know it's for the ball. Why aren't you dressed yet? Do you feel ill?"

"I'm never ill with you by my side," Gaston grinned, flirting unabashedly (and rather terribly, too, but LeFou loved it). "You take care of me, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And I take care of you," Gaston said, tracing his fingers up and down LeFou's arm. "At least, I try. You do a rather good job of it yourself, you know."

LeFou shivered. "Thank you, Gaston."

His friend's hand crept towards the top button of LeFou's frock, but he smacked it away, turning around to face his companion. "Are you coming or not?" he huffed, trying to ignore his flushed cheeks and the entitled smirk on Gaston's face.

"Will Belle be there?" Gaston murmured, brushing LeFou's cheek with his thumb. At that, the shorter man drew back immediately, scowling.

"I don't know," he said exasperatedly. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does. I want to make sure I have time to pay attention to you, LeFou."

"Wh-what are you implying?" LeFou asked as Gaston swooped in for a quick kiss. He pushed him away, but the taller, stronger man barely moved at all.

"That I enjoy your company," Gaston protested.

"No, you're saying that if Belle was there - which she will be - you wouldn't have time to spend with me."

 _"LeFou,"_ Gaston simpered, pretending to pout. "It's an old habit, and I'm sorry. You know I have eyes only for you now. Belle has her beast -"

"Prince Adam," LeFou interrupted.

"Right. And I have my LeFou." He smiled and pressed his lips against his lover's, who finally relented. Hands pressed into his back and eventually made their way to his shoulders. When LeFou realized what Gaston was trying to do, however, he stuttered a few exasperated complaints and lowered his head.

"Why aren't you ready yet?" he asked, hastily changing the subject.

"I'm not coming."

"We just talked about this! You promised me, Gaston; why aren't you coming?"

"Dearheart," Gaston said, pressing a kiss to LeFou's brow, "you know why."

LeFou closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace, but when he opened them again and looked around, Gaston was gone.

 

* * *

 

It was winter, but the flowers were somehow still in bloom, albeit coated with frost. Belle, noting his gloomy mood, invited LeFou out for a stroll in the gardens on a day when the wind's bite was less harsh. They donned fur capes and gloves provided by Madame Garderobe and traipsed out of the castle together, chatting amicably. Belle led the way through the hedge maze, pointing out rose bushes and honeysuckle vines as they ambled through the labyrinth.

"There's these gorgeous petunias right around the bend that I want you to take a look at," she said excitedly, letting go of LeFou's arm for a moment to point ahead. "I'll be right back, I'm going to pick some."

She rounded the corner and disappeared from view, leaving LeFou to admire the flower beds by himself.

"A rose for my rose," a familiar voice suddenly said from behind him, and he turned around to see Gaston, clad in a bearskin cloak, an especially sanguine tunic, and hunting boots. A musket was slung over his shoulder and a rose was in his gloveless, bleeding hand.

"You're hurt," LeFou observed, drawing closer. "Did you prick yourself on the thorns?"

"It doesn't matter. Take it."

After a moment's consideration, he did, wrapping his fingers around Gaston's. "You're cold as death," he remarked. "Take my gloves."

Gaston laughed at that, a full, booming laugh that scared a few birds out of a nearby tree. "They'd never fit me," he grinned. "And besides," he added, sobering up, "I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Let me try," LeFou pleaded. "Let me fix you, Gaston. I'll help you like I did in the war, I'll make everything better."

He blinked, and suddenly, there were gashes across Gaston's beautiful face. His chest bore a gaping hole, his crimson shirt even redder with blood, and his legs were buckling beneath him, contorted and crumpled and crushed. LeFou rushed forward, hooking his arms under Gaston's and heaving him up - but it was no use, he was too heavy, sinking down into the ground and taking LeFou with him -

"I guess I don't know the gardens as well as I thought!" Belle chuckled, suddenly reappearing from the depths of the hedgerows and interrupting LeFou's useless attempts to save Gaston's life. "The blossoms were actually much farther along the path than I thought, and I... LeFou, are you alright?"

He suddenly realized that his knees were wet and cold from the snow he had been kneeling in, so he stood shakily and brushed his breeches off. "I, er..." he started, his voice breaking.

"Oh, this was a terrible idea," Belle said, producing a handkerchief from her pocket and handing it to him. "Your nose is all red and your eyes are wet, you must be catching a cold. Did the wind sting you?"

"Something like that."

 

* * *

 

He stared down at the smooth stone and drew his mantle about him, shivering.

"Do you want my coat?"

"That's very kind, but no, thank you," he replied. "I need to feel..."

He trailed off, but Gaston understood.

"I know what it's like to not want to remember something," he said quietly, wrapping a broad arm around LeFou's quaking shoulders. "I don't want to remember the war. But at the same time, I do. It's when you and I became close, after all."

"We've _always_ been close."

"Of course, LeFou," Gaston conceded. "That's when we became closest, I mean. You helped me through it - you still do - and I want to help you through this, too."

"Mmm." He rested his head against Gaston's shoulder and sighed.

"You _do_  remember it, don't you?"

There was a moment's pause, then a choked, "Yes," and LeFou closed his eyes. He remembered that day very well - the day he'd come tearing out of the castle, the piles of rubble and debris lifted away by a radiant, shimmering light summoned by Agathe, the enchantress. One large piece of wreckage in particular had dissipated to reveal a tattered body that LeFou didn't want to recognize.

He saw the body in front of him now, lying, rent, in a puddle of blood. LeFou gasped, taking in more and more air, but couldn't seem to exhale. His bones ached and groaned as he fell to the ground as Gaston had fallen, his knees slamming into the stone. His body lurched with sobs that he tried to hide, both of his hands cupped over his face. A high-pitched whine hissed between his teeth like a teakettle, and he snuffled, his nose running and his eyes bleary.

"You have to accept it, LeFou," Gaston said, his tone grating. "I'm gone and there's nothing you can do."

"I could've stopped you!" LeFou howled, his sobs nearing screams. "I - I was the only one with any semblance of control over you, I could've calmed you down, I -"

"I left you for dead," his best friend snarled. "That was my own foolish, dastardly decision, and I regret it more than anything. You couldn't have stopped me."

"You weren't yourself, Gaston!"

"Fine! Throw yourself off of the parapets because of  _love_! Kill yourself for the sake of romance!" There were a few heavy footsteps, and suddenly, Gaston was crouching at his side, gripping his arms. "But for god's sake, LeFou, don't do it in my name. I did what I did, and I will  _never_ forgive myself for it - but no matter how painful it is, I won't let you die, too. I would rather fall from the ramparts six hundred times over than let you take your own life. You are stronger than that, LeFou. I know you are."

LeFou pushed him away and stood up, squinting in an attempt to see through his tears. "You're not even here," he spat, jabbing a blurry, trembling finger in Gaston's direction.

From what he could see, the huntsman was surprised, but he didn't have time to get a good look before he blinked, a fresh wave of tears washing Gaston away.

 

* * *

 

The next day, they found his body in much the same way as they had found Gaston's.

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful painting is by the lovely [zebotc](http://zebotc.tumblr.com)!


End file.
